Until the moment I met him, I'd never done anything wrong. Like, seriously, nothing. Until that summery afternoon when an exceptionally cute boy with unnatural green eyes—like emerald flames—stepped out in front of my car. And I hit him.
Only the boy didn't die. There isn't a mark on him. And now Aiden is begging me to drive him somewhere, anywhere. Because he's being hunted, and the people chasing him will only stop when he's dead. I know I should just keep driving, but there's something vulnerable in his voice, in his crooked smile, that makes me want to help him...even if it means leaving "good" behind.
And "leaving good" feels a whole lot like being alive. More alive than I've ever felt.
Now I'm risking everything—my safety, my relationship with my dad, even my freedom—for a guy I just met. It's not Stockholm Syndrome or even Hot Hijacker Syndrome. Something tells me Aiden's different, really different, and it's not just his eyes, his strength, or his preternatural smarts. Or that when he kisses me, everything else just disappears.
It's like he's the perfect guy.
And he might just be hiding the perfect secret.